Wounds Not Mended
by Bruteaous
Summary: Major Kira Nerys as a child in the Singha refugee camp on Bajor. To stay alive, can Nerys overcome her demons to defeat the Cardassians?
1. Prologue: The Occupation

_**Wounds Not Mended**_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DS9 or any of its character, although I sometimes wish I did! Please take note, this is a fan fiction. This will not be published or violate copy write law in any form.

**Prologue: The Occupation**

_**Year 2328**_

_**Bajor**_

The dawn was so dark an orange it almost looked red in the early morning atmosphere rising over the Dahkur province. It showered the green landscape with light, purifying the hills and seemingly bathing everything from the province's rolling hills to the trees that lined them in a soft veil of gold. All appeared picturesque and pristine like a vision from the heavens, a land of unharmed natural beauty. But all was not as it seemed. The rain forests that covered the steeps and the untamed grass lands were hampered by an ungraceful and foreign evil which had set in on this land from a neighboring system. The nefarious offenders were the shady legions of Cardassia Prime.

Dark warriors, who had longed to prove the superiority of their race over that of others and had finally captured their chance in the shadowed halls of military domination. The government, on the other hand, claimed greed as the price for its lust for occupation. Cardassia, an ancient nation, was void of many natural resources which Bajor had in great wealth. Seeking to have this wealth for themselves, the expansionists of the government rallied for the invasion of the peaceful planet of Bajor. For this reason alone they had taken control of this land without great struggle in the dread year of 2328.

It had had been a dark day on the face of Bajor when the victorious conquers had instituted their right hand at the capital of Dahkur to prevail over the people. The Occupational Government, a puppet of the High Command set up to show the atrocities and tribunals they carried out as justifiable to the few other nations who knew what had happened to the Bajoran populous. The caste system, which had been in practice successfully for over one hundred years, was denounced and nullified. Tradesman and artisans were thrown from their guilds, whole families were put out of work. The people were confounded. What were they to do if they were banned from practicing the trades their families had passed down for the last few generations? What else could they do?

A second decree was issued in 2330 by the High command's black hand, this one more potent than the last. It declared that the people were to leave their homes as resettle in predestinated camps on the edges of the cities. In short, it ordered every free Bajoran to leave all that they owned behind and start a new. The mass emigration from the cities began. Whole families had packed all of the belongings they were allowed to take and were herded into a large group which would leave the cities on foot and travel, 'escorted' by a Cardassian appointed official and his troops to their camps. It had been a sore day when the Kira family had bee forced to leave their ancestral home in the city of Dahkur led by the family elder, Kira Tuan and his children. The control factor of the camps was population size and the Cardassians dealt with overcrowding using an ancient ritual, decimation.

Every third member of a family was taken away and loaded into trucks by guards. Chaos is the only way to describe the event. The families were herded into a large arena surrounded by palisade walls. Then Cardassian officers and their dogmatic aides, who followed at their sides loyally with a clip board that housed the names of the members of every family, had marched forcefully through the shivering, huddled mass carrying sticks in one hand.

The authoritarians stood before one family at a time, read aloud the names of its members and then picked their victims at random. Once singled out, those chosen were wrestled from their relatives by armed guards and taken to trucks where they were restrained and loaded into their backs. The Cardassian officers often in these situations argued that more than the third of every family should be taken for fear the one was not enough and that over crowding would ensue if they were not through in this. So many times two were taken and in some instances more than four were arrested.

In the year 2335, this happened to the Kira's on their way to the newly erectedSingha camp. They had taken from the Kira family Kira Tuan and his eldest son, Kira Hien, leaving behind his only other son, Kira Taban and his young wife Kira Meru to lead the family. Once the trucks were loaded they were taken to remote locations, no one but the Cardassian overseers really knew where. In any event, whole families were torn apart in what the High Command called the 'first step' in the cleansing of Bajor.

Next the remaining people were again herded up to walk on foot the remainder of the way to the camps. This sorry trek was later named the Trail of Desolation by the Bajorans who survived it because the trip was so long and grueling that often a family would loose a fifth of its remaining members to the horrors of the journey. Once a free and prosperous race, the Bajorans were rounded up as though they were chattel to be bartered and sold at their captors' whims. All that had been of this great and most ancient of all civilizations in the Alpha quadrant was disbanded in the onset of a few short years.

Nevertheless, the Bajoran people clung proudly to their heritage and most important of all to their faith. The people in the camps were inspired by it, so much so that their Cardassian officers began to fear what could happen if everyone were to rally up behind it against them. In the year 2340 a the Occupational Government again reared its ugly head in answer to the fears of their high ranking officials. It decreed that the teachings of the Prophets were not to be preached publicly to the populous and that punishment would arise for those who disobeyed those orders. But the people did not loose face. Vedeks continued to preach from within the camps, instilling in them fire that could not be snuffed out by any act of oppression or desolation: hope. The steady years of oppression, torture, and hard labor did not dampen such expectancy of freedom

Kira Taban, despite his harsh experiences and frequent brushes with death, was a peaceful man full of hope and good will, though he and his family inhabited a place of dark walls and even darker threats. His light heart would carry the burden of caring for his family and worrying for their well being, but his was also a stout heart and he rose to the challenge with a smile on his face. His smile would lighten the hardest of all tasks and mend the most stubborn of internal wounds for his children and his family. That was how he and his wife would have it. A better life for their children, it was all they could hope for in this deep and troubled land.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This will not be a lighthearted tale as the occupation was a dark time so shall this story cover some of the more violent aspects of life on Bajor at the time, though I don't want you to get discouraged from reading because it will have a happy ending. But for all of you who have a tough time with violence, you've been warned. I liked the character of Major Kira's father in the one episode where it talked about him and I was excited that I would get the chance to elaborate on that. I hope you enjoyed the _Prologue_. Tell me what you thought! Questions? Criticisms? Likes? Dislikes? Feed them all to me in a detailed review. Thanks! 


	2. Land of Tears

**Chapter One: Land of Tears**

_**Year 2346**_

**_Singha refugee camp _**

**_The Dahkur Province,_** **_Bajor _**

The office of Gul Zeban was well lit and well furnished, so unlike the state of the mud brick tenements outside. Zeban sat at his desk thumbing through PADD reports made by various junior officers under his command telling him how things outside of the protective walls of the barracks were going out in the camp. The motion sensor near his door tolled, he had a visitor. _Finally!_

"Come." He called calmly not looking up from his reading.

A guard entered. He bowed his head respectfully and then approached the desk. "A moment, sir?"

"What is it?" Zeban asked tossing the boring report aside.

"You have a visitor, sir." The guard announced. "A newly commissioned officer who has been sent from high command to speak with you."

"Well, what are you waiting for, send him in!" Zeban shouted impatiently.

"Yes, sir." The guard turned on his heel and left the steel chamber.

It was cold in that room, far too cold. Cardassians favored much hotter climates, but then again, Zeban could not be choosey. After all, he had asked to be sent here. He had convinced those fools in the Occupational Government that he could work wonders with the providences, could rid them of all of their ugly and troublesome dark spots. His talent was above this, all he had to do was crush these people and promotion would not be far behind. The motion sensor on his door beeped loudly.

"Come." He called calmly.

Another officer entered. He was tall with hair black and skin a handsome shade of grey. His standing was dignified and his bearing was that of a superior officer. _A new Gul_, Zeban wondered, _a replacement for me? No, I am too valuable to them, but then who…_

"State your name and rank." Zeban ordered tersely.

"I was hardly expecting such a reception from you, Zeban." The younger stated, a self assured smirk playing on his features. "Though the tone is not needed, you have nothing to fear from me, I assure you."

"Do as you are told!" Zeban shouted.

The other's grin widened as he replied calmly, "I am Gul Dukat and I have been sent her to instigate some changes High Command wants to put into practice in the running of this camp."

"Dukat?" Zeban huffed mockingly. "I thought they placed you in charge of that little mining station, what did they call it? Terok Nor?"

"I am in charge of that station, but it just so happens that the High Command sought out my particular talents for the task of setting about a few reforms here." Dukat replied calmly.

"Such as?" Zeban asked suspiciously.

Dukat took a seat in a chair across from Zeban's desk. "This morning two guards of my entourage spotted a Bajoran man trying to leave the camp and escape into the hills. They captured him of course, but that is not the issue. Rumor has it that this camp is a little too lax in the security department. High Command has sent me to make sure you do not make a fool of yourself."

"I--"

"Do not lose your temper with me, Zeban, I am only here to protect the good merits of your prestigious reputation." Dukat soothed sophisticatedly. "An example must be made of the provinces. Gul Melket is not pleased. According to most of his sources, many of the early resistance leaders hail from this camp and others surrounding it."

"It is the terrain." Zeban argued. "This hills are steep and rocky. My soldiers have difficulty climbing the cliffs just to locate a few runaways."

"Those runaways, as insignificant as they are on their own, have a tendency to join the Bajoran resistance movement which makes them a danger to me, you, and the legions of Cardassia. It simply cannot be allowed to happen anymore." Dukat debated. "Something must be done so that the general population understand the price for defiance. The people must be disciplined."

Zeban took a deep breath. None of this was going in his favor. He could not oppose Dukat, at least not when he carried the authority of an executive order. All he could do was to remain silent and resilient until Dukat left, then he would be in charge again, but until then a little acting needed to be done. If he could not sincerely feeling the part, then he at least falsely act it.

"Truthfully." Zeban leaned forward, hiding his chin behind his hand. "I cannot reason with them. They're like animals."

"I understand, but an example must be made of those who run away." Dukat supplied.

"I agree." Zeban stated. "And that is precisely what will happen."

"I have complete faith in you're abilities, Zeban, but I insist that I stay on until I am convinced the point has gotten across to the people." Dukat grinned. "This morning then?"

Zeban nodded grudgingly. It unnerved him. Someone was holding the pawns in this game and for once, it was not him and, regardless; he would have to bear it. "Agreed."

-------

Every Bajoran family was allotted a small plot of land near their hovel which served as the primary growing area for all of the family's foods…that is, back in the days when the Cardassians allowed them to grow their own food. The garden of the Kira family was the same size as everyone else's, just a plain dirt square in the ground where a few meager vegetables grew, but it was enough. This Kira Meru knew as she tended to a few kava plants beneath the steady rays of the morning sun. Her clothes and bearing were simple, a long orange tunic which hung from shoulder to ankle, tightly held in place by a hand woven red sash around her waist. Her auburn tresses were loosely kempt behind her head in a limp bun which swayed gently to and fro as she bent down to pull some stray weeds near the base of one of the gangly plants and cast them aside.

It was a peaceful day. So far no one had been taken away to torture or execution. No unsuspecting worker had been dragged away to fess up to some rough crime meant to cover up the fact that the misdemeanor had really been committed by a disgruntled Cardassian guard instead. No one had been…at least not yet. It was still too early in the day to pass judgment. Meru stood up and brushed the dirt casually from her knees as she straightened them. It was still only an hour passed dawn. The small infant, Pohl, gave a small whimper from the wicker carrier on her back and Meru reached back to comfort him as she began humming in soothing tones. She had come out to gather Alvos and Kava nuts for breakfast when some vermin growth had distracted her from the task, but now she was ready. Bending low she examined the kava fruit which dangled just above the ground. She picked the ripest of the four on the plant and then stepped over to the Alvo tree, grabbing a handful of purplish spheres from the hanging vines.

Slowly she made her way back into the small sun baked hovel she shared with her husband and three children. The one room dwelling had no other walls than the four main barriers holding the roof over their heads, so the stove room, where food was cleaned, cooked, and eaten was separated from the other half of the yurt which served as sleeping quarters for Taban, Meru, and their three infant children. Outside there was access to a stream for water and the camp had wash tents where families were ordered to bath when their Cardassian overlords decided it would be beneficial to keep up the hygienic order of the place. Meru sighed and set the gathering basket on the rough wooden table in the center of the divided room. Then she reached back and unfastened the wicker carrier from her back and gently set her son down on the table also. He squealed as a piglet does when it is pulled from its warm nest, but soon quieted down again as Meru laid him against her shoulder, rubbing his back comfortingly.

"Taban." She called reservedly, careful not to wake the children in the other room. "Taban, come here please."

A slight rustling was heard from behind the scarlet canvas that separated the two adjoining areas before the fraying burgundy curtain was drawn back quietly. Kira Taban emerged from behind the cloth barrier slowly turning to pull it silently shut behind him. Pivoting back around he pressed one finger to his smiling lips soundlessly.

"Sssh, I finally got Nerys to settle down." He cautioned, but there was a lighthearted light burning in those honey eyes which betrayed any stern facade he could have tried to put up. "She put up a fight, but I finally go her to fall asleep again. She's pretty stubborn, you know. "

Meru nodded. "Take him please. I need free hands to prepare the morning meal."

Taban crossed the dirt floor lightly and extended his arms to take the boy from his wife. Pohl stirred, but did not wake as he was settled back against father's sturdy shoulder. Meru moved to clear the table, setting the wicker carrier in the corner and dumping the freshly picked fruit into a wooden bowl. She washed the fruit from water brought in from the stream earlier that morning and then dumped it out to soak into the wooden floor, keeping the fruit in the bowl skillfully with one hand before tipping it right side up and placing it back on the table. Wiping her hands on her apron, Meru bent over a wooden box and pulled from it a small roll of Mapa Bread which had been baked earlier that morning for the meal. Arranging all of it along with a few wooden plates on the table, she signed sadly.

"What's the matter?" Taban asked concerned.

"It's nothing." Meru tried to shrug the feeling off with a smile.

"Does the same amount of nothing every day cause you to hold the table in a death grip as you are now?" Taban asked in high spirits, though his focus was on his wife. "Really, what is bothering you?"

Meru glided over safely near the two and sat down in a rickety chair just opposite her husband. "A lot of little unimportant things." She confessed warily.

"What sort of things?" Taban pried curiously.

"It bothers me that this is all we have to feed our children. It bothers me that we have to raise our little ones in a home where there is no floor, only dirt and no future, only bondage. It sickens me that they have to live through all of this." Meru spat the words with contempt.

Taban's demeanor softened as he reached forward and clasped his wife's hand. "Meru, there is nothing we can do. We are working as hard as possible to make this life all it can be for them. There is not one thing we can do that has not already been done. This," he paused and gestured around the entire room, "is the best this world has to offer us."

Meru nodded sadly. "I know, but that does not make it right."

"Listen to me, Meru." He said leaning forward slightly, determination burning a blazing fire in his eyes. "Militant resistance in unnecessary. The Occupation will eventually die of the same decay and deterioration that destroys every regime over time and in the end, our children will be able to hold their heads high because they survived it and we can be proud because we gave them life and the strength to live it. But we have to persevere, Meru. No matter what happens, we cannot give in to them. That is what Gul Zeban wants. He and his guards are poised to break the spirit of every worker in this camp and their families along with them, but we must resist. We must not give in, Meru, we cannot afford to."

Meru looked away, her eyes following the rays of sunlight filtering through the cracks left between the doorframe and the wool blanket which separated their home from the rest of the outside world. Finally, she turned back to face Taban and squeezed his hand, offering as reassuring of a smile as she could muster.

"We won't, I won't." She answered sincerely. "I am grateful though that you are not one of those fighters who leaves his family and everything he has in this world for the promise of victory against the Cardassians. Just promise me, Taban, you will never leave us. Your children need you, I need you, here. I know what it is like to grow up with a father taken from me and I would not wish for you to be taken away from them. I know you are brave, the most courageous man I have ever known, you do not have to take up arms against Gul Zeban to prove it to me."

Taban brought her hand up to his cheek, then turned to kiss its back lovingly. "I won't. You and the children mean everything to me. Nothing, not even the Gul's henchmen, could pull me from you."

Meru smiled as she suppressed the fear which had been steadily growing within her for days now, ever since Chen Nab had run away from this place to join the resistance in the hills. "That is good to hear."

"I figured it would be." Taban smirked.

"I better go and wake the children. The bell for role call will sound in half an hour." Meru said standing up as Taban released her hand. "They will need to eat before then."

Taban nodded as he eased his sleeping son up off of the emerald wool of his tunic and transferred him to his other shoulder. There was no reason to wake Pohl just yet. He would wake up when he was hungry. It would be better if they let him sleep for now. The red canvas swayed a little and then gave way as a tiny figure stumbled through it and into the dining area.

Taban smiled and reached out to ruffle the auburn mop as the small child came closer. "Good morning, Nerys. Did you sleep well?"

Nerys nodded and crawled on to her father's lap, leaning back against his broad chest as she attempted to drift back to sleep. Meru reentered the dining area pulling a still half dazed little boy by the hand along side her.

"Come, Reon." She cooed as she picked him up and placed him on her lap as she sat down at the table. She reached in the bowl and brought out a few Alvos, scattering them on the plate. Meru picked one up and brought it before her son's tiny lips, holding it persuasively out in front of him. "You must eat something."

She did not have to tell him twice. He reached out his tiny hand and took the small grape-like fruit from her, stuffing as much as he could chew into his mouth. He hungrily devoured the other fruit on the plate and before long his mother was holding a happily cooing infant in her arms. Nerys still sat on her father's lap. She had eaten one or two Alvos and nibbled on a piece of kava her father had cut for her, but could not bring herself to eat anymore than that.

The blanket which kept watch where a door should be gave a sudden lurch as a body leapt through it. The boy stood up quickly from where he had fallen on the floor and beat the dust from his breeches before he straightened. The boy was slender in build of about five years of age with hair that was the color of the sun and eyes lightly hewn to match, accented by the dark brown of his tunic and grey of his weathered breaches. He looked panic stricken.

"They caught him!" He shouted hoarsely as though he barely had any voice left. "The guards caught him!"

"Caught who, Fernon?" Taban asked passively, not wanting to alarm the sleeping infant in his arms.

"My father!" Fernon wailed brokenly, a skeleton on his feet.

"Chen Nab? They caught Chen Nab?" Meru asked anxiously, she was horrified.

Taban sighed bringing one hand work worn hand up to his forehead as he bent his head, a all too common fatigue setting over him. "They must have caught him on the border." He whispered quietly.

"Fernon, what have they done with him?" Meru asked turning so she could take in the boy's frazzled appearance.

Fernon wiped his sleeved arm across his face to dry the tears which had been falling and took in a shaky breath to quiet his sobs. "The two guards, they…marched him back in chains. One…was…was on horseback leading the way and the other was behind him, holding him at phaser point. Then…they…they took him into the barracks and I have not seen him since. Mama started crying, I've never seen her cry like that before. I am all alone…and…and I don't know what to do!"

"Courage, Fernon." Meru set her son down and jumped from her seat. In one fluid movement she had taken the boy in to her arms, holding him in a loose hug. "You must be brave now, you're mother will need you."

"But what will happen to my father?" The boy asked lifting his head from her chest.

Meru opened her mouth to answer, but before she could the gruff voice of the much hated Gul Zeban came over the loud speakers.

"Attention all civilians. You are all to report to the front square immediately. All those who refuse to attend will be punished."

The call repeated itself, but no one needed it to. The families came out of their small hovels, slowly meandering to the center if the compound where the command post and the barracks for the guards were. There, before the foremost barracks, stood the tall, menacing form of Gul Zeban surrounded by an entourage of four to five soldiers. No one knew for sure why they had all been summoned to the square so suddenly for role call was not for another fifteen minutes at least, but a feeling of dread permeated the air like the stench of rotting fish. The Gul stepped forward into the center of the square, shadowed by to other soldiers. One was a simple guard, the other was a young officer, probably newly appointed to this position; but on his front he held the insignia of the high command and the people knew from looking upon him that his presence meant trouble for them.

Zeban scanned the crowd, his grey eyes boring icily into all those who dare meet them. He turned as he watched them, daring them, any one of them to defy him. Finally, after what seemed like a terrifying eternity, he spoke.

"A man leaves his home, his family behind and no one admits to their guards the nature of his absence." He said still craning his neck to the crowd. "I have called you all here to day to witness something. To witness justice be done. You have all, no doubt, felt, at some time, some lingering discomfort with the way things are run here or with the way you have been treated by your overseers while out working in the hills. Well, today I will give you the right to voice that discomfort for it will be corrected. That is why you are here."

He paused and stalked over to the younger officer, whispered something to him and then the other Cardassian set off for the barracks to carry out some secret order. A tightening feeling had taken over the crowd and their hushed murmurs were filled full of fear. The Kiras were situated on the far left side of the closest ring of on lookers. Taban held the now awake Pohl in one arm while holding his daughter's shoulder with the other. Nerys stood at her father's feet. Though she was the oldest of her family's children, she was still too young to understand anything that was going on. Meru stood near her husband holding the arm of Reon in one hand as he stood sucking his thumb timidly at her feet and held the distraught boy Fernon with her other arm across his chest.

Time seemed to crawl by. Suddenly, the front door of the barracks flew open automatically and the younger Cardassian officer walked out. Trailing in his wake were two more guards, hauling a dirty and bleeding Chen Nab between them. The other officer came to stand next to Gul Zeban, nodding to him. All was set and ready, all they need do was choose the card the had to play and set it out in the open. Zeban smiled darkly, he was happy and for all of the wrong reasons. It was an unnerving sight.

"Many of you have openly wondered, I am sure, why your superiors treat you the way they do. Why we beat you and haggle you, drag you down. Well, my good people, this is the reason why." Zeban's scaly features contorted as he pointed sharply at the broken man being held up by two Cardassian guardsmen. "I set policy, I make the rules. Is it so much to ask for you people to abide by my laws? By the restrictions and limitations I put into play for your own benefit alone? Of course, you don't know what is good for you, how could you? You people are like children, you need a firm guiding hand to show you what to do, how to live in a manner which will not harm or endanger you. I am your guiding hand, your God and so long as I rule my word is law and laws are meant to be obeyed. Do you people know what happens when you disobey my word? Bad things. Bad things happen. Security increases, hostility towards you and your kind increases. Your petty resistance is just making things harder on yourselves."

Zeban turned around and motioned to the other officer to step forward as he continued. "This morning, I was visited by Gul Dukat, and had to be told by him the very merit this camp and its people. He found this man trying to cross the border into the hills. And you wonder why we, your superiors, must be so hard on you! For this," he walked over and spit on the man as he continued to gesture and yell vehemently," you suffer needlessly! No more. Today justice will be done upon you!"

Fernon whimpered in Meru's arms, but he did not look away. He could not. His eyes were riveted to his father.

"To day those who have wrong you will be stamped out! Today you will be made into new men, molded by the blood of deflectors!" Zeban shouted. "Behold, the great traitor! He has betrayed you all not just us!"

Dukat walked over to the two guards holding the prisoner. On his side he carried a sword, the kind of dress swords worn by Cardassian officers on diplomatic missions. With his right hand he pulled the sword slowly from its sheath, the cold metal singing mournfully as it was freed from its dark captivity.

"Stand him up." Dukat ordered the two men holding Chen Nab.

The two guards lifted from beneath the lithe Bajoran man's shoulders, though his legs refused to support his weight from under him. The side of his pale face was streaked with ruby blood all the way from a cut from beneath the wave of dark hair that covered his head. Dukat studied the man, is grey eyes scrutinizing every aspect of him.

"I do want you to know." He finally said in a toneless voice. "That I consider being given this opportunity quite an honor."

"No! Don't hurt him!" Fernon shouted running from the crowd into the open square.

"Fernon no!" Taban shouted, but it was too late.

The guards raised their phaser rifles, but Dukat raised his arm to stop them. "Wait! Hold your fire! Come here, boy."

A guard marched forward and pulled Fernon up by his tunic collar. He was led straight to Dukat and dropped at his feet. Though no shots had been fired, all of the guards still had their weapons aimed at the dangerous little boy who had dared to blaze the crowd and out into their midst. Gul Dukat knelt down so that he was eye level with the boy.

"Tell me, boy, what is your objection to my killing this man? Why should you care what I choose to do to him?" Dukat asked.

Fernon sat up and wiped his runny nose on his sleeve. "Because he's my father."

"Oh, I see." Dukat stood and paced around in the dirt. "So you want to help your father don't you? I'll give you a chance to do that."

Walking forward Dukat took the hilt of his sword and pressed it into the little boy's palm. "I will give you a chance to kill me and I give you my word that if you can kill me I will set your father free."

"Leave my son alone, please!" Chen Nab had finally found his voice, though it was broken and worn.

Fernon looked from the sword up at Dukat, deciding. "Do you promise?"

"I swear on the lives of my forefathers, that if you can kill me where I stand, I will set you and your father free." Dukat replied.

Dukat stood took a couple steps backwards and raised his arms above his head. "So, kill me."

Fernon hesitated, but then as quickly as he could he charged forward. In a flash of steel, the boy was again on the ground, this time motionless, and Dukat remained still standing, very much alive. He cracked his neck and turned around. "And as for you and your traitorous kind."

He raised the blade and in one fell swoop, Chen Nab's head flew bloodily from his shoulders and landed in the sand. The crowd gasped and people cried. A woman, Chen Lin, ran out from the crowd, weeping, but she never made it to embrace either son or husband's lifeless forms. Zeban picked up a rifle from one of his guards and in one burst of orange phaser fire she was gone too.

"Will anyone else come forward to voice their complaints?!" Zeban shouted over the crowd.

The execution was over, but the point had not been clearly made. The Cardassians threw into this, the final act of the play, one final piece of theatrics. Dukat walked forward, and with Zeban's permission, addressed the crowd.

"I am Gul Dukat of the Bajoran mining station Terok Nor and here, before all of you as my witnesses, I claim as payment for my services in this whole hellish affair, the compensation which only a woman can offer." Dukat stated as the murmuring of outrage began. "I will take three women of my choosing pulled at random from the crowd."

Shouts and wails roared from the surround Bajorans, though the guards tried to quell them, the yells did not quiet down one bit. Zeban walked over to Dukat's side.

"You see what you have instigated here, Dukat." Zeban complained. "A riot, just another uprising I will have to quell."

Gul Dukat looked at him, then walked over to one of his aides and took his phaser rifle from him, fully charging it, he took five shots each one aimed into random areas of the crowd. People screamed and the cries of outrage quickly turned into cries of pain and sorrow. Dukat then calmly handed the rifle back to the soldier and called his entourage to him. He pointed to three women, each one in different parts of the circle. Then he mounted his horse as it was brought to him. He gave no more orders for the day, except two small words.

"Bring them." Dukat said before riding back to the compound.

His guardsmen set out into the crowd and took the women he had indicated. One grabbed Kira Meru by the arm and pulled her into the clearing along with the others.

"By the prophets, you will not take her!" Taban yelled, but he had been thrown back roughly to the ground by one of the entourage as yet another guard hit him upside the head with the end of his rifle. He tried to stand, but pain shot through the side of his head and neck. He tried to move, but that hurt too. The crowd had become a confused mass of swirling, screaming, brawling bodies. Where were his children? What about his wife? He tried to stand again and this time he made it to his knees before finally collapsing to the ground. The last thing he saw was his wife being ushered through the doors of the barracks with the other three women. Then everything was black.

* * *

**Author's note: **Indeed, this is not happy. For me, in the DS9 series, Dukat was never villainous enough until he killed Jadzia. In the early series he just seemed not evil enough. So I resolved to create my own, younger version of Dukat and also of Kira Taban. We only ever see him through flash backs so I wanted to create a younger version of his character also. So complaints? Likes? Dislikes? Inconsistencies? Let me know! 


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